


Just Like The Greeks!

by DVwrites, rainbowwrites



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Exhibitionism, F/F, F/M, Hold on I'm not a writer and my memory is wank so let me remember what content this is going to have, M/M, Multi, Orgy, Piercings, Sober Grantaire, Threesomes, Voyeurism, lap/chair dancing, nsfw to the max like we are DESCRIPTIVE bois, though not much or much mention tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:41:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29363439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DVwrites/pseuds/DVwrites, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowwrites/pseuds/rainbowwrites
Summary: Grantaire snorted, again, and took a long swig of the water he’d been given. He stood, splaying out his arms and clearing his throat dramatically.“My fellow men! This is obviously a noble call to arms. Think of the Greeks!” He drawled, cup still clasped in one hand, Courfeyrac nodding and grinning at his side as if they were some kind of demented duo act.“The Greeks, R?”“The Greeks! They bedded in groups, in vast orgies! And feasted! And drank! Their fellows were their equals in intelligence, design and-,” He made a show of bowing. “In the bedroom.”--Courfeyrac seduces his friends at the greatest party the Amis have ever, and will ever throw.
Relationships: Bahorel/Combeferre (Les Misérables), Combeferre/Courfeyrac/Enjolras (Les Misérables), Courfeyrac/Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy/Éponine Thénardier, Courfeyrac/Grantaire, Courfeyrac/Joly, Courfeyrac/Marius Pontmercy, Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables), Feuilly/Jean Prouvaire, this is what it says on the tin - Relationship, which is that it's an orgy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	1. LETS GO OUT WITH A BANG

Courfeyrac was a master of ideas; seeing as he was as pragmatic and ingenious as both Combeferre and Enjolras, he wanted to say he’d given this a lot of thought, and that it wasn’t just something that had appeared to him on a whim, but this was the hill he was definitely willing to die on. 

“An orgy!” 

The silence that followed was palpable, but Courf’s smile refused to back down from its rightful place on his lips. 

In front of him, his friends lounged around the living room of his apartment, having been summoned by a quick text to the group chat. He’d been straight with them - he’d be pitching his brilliant idea, they just needed to be prepared. 

Just as quickly as they’d relaxed into sofas or settled on the floor, the room had become a show of raised eyebrows and tense shoulders. 

Jehan broke the silence first with an almost theatrical gasp. 

“An _orgy_?” He practically radiated with chaotic energy, and at this point, Courf supposed that was just him in a nutshell. “Like the romans?” 

“Just like the romans!” Courfeyrac shot back, practically beaming. Of course, Jehan wasn’t opposed to the idea, as he’d expected. It wasn’t him who would need re-assuring, and just as he'd thought that, Feuilly spoke up. 

“Is this a joke?” His eyebrows couldn’t have raised further, eyeing Courfeyrac like he wasn’t sure if this was truly something he was proposing or not. 

“Would I joke about having a sex party?” Courf almost pouted. “You wound me,” 

“Of course he’s not joking,” Grantaire scoffed, amused, from his position on the floor. “Look at him, he’s still secretly on some misguided quest to fuck the whole country and Joly is enabling him. Leave us out of your weird foreplay, Courf.” 

“I don’t think you know what foreplay is, R,” Courf retorted, before clapping his hands together, throwing a pleading look at the group. “Hear me out! I _know_ it’s not the sex part that’s bothering you, and I get that it’s nerve wracking and kinda weird, but we can make it _not_ weird.” 

“How?” This time, it was Enjolras’ turn to throw Courfeyrac an incredulous look, as if he didn’t quite know what to make of this yet. 

“Food, music, communication and most importantly, a continuous and enthusiastic yes,” Courfeyrac nodded sagely, offering Enjolras a reassuring smile. 

Everyone looked at each other, bar Enjolras, who held his friend’s gaze. 

“Think of it – we can finish the year with a bang!” Courfeyrac continued, dark eyes alight with what looked like excitement and easily made everyone unsure as to whether or not this was all some elaborate joke. At least three people sighed and Grantaire let out a bark of a laugh, serving only to fuel him further.

“And it’s a good way of expressing intimacy!” 

“But, an orgy?” Continued Jehan, leaning forward now. He was so in. 

“No,” Interrupted Feuilly, simultaneously with his movement off the sofa, as he stood up to go into the kitchen. 

He was so in, later. 

“I’m out too, though a part of me is intrigued to see how you’d pull this off,” Combeferre shook his head, perching his book flat open onto his lap again as if he intended on reading it and forgetting this conversation even happened, dismissing it as one of Courfeyrac’s spontaneous ideas - much like the time they’d had to dissuade him from banana boomerangs and tort law for cats. 

Courfeyrac let out a low whine, hands falling from their previous position, throwing a pleading gaze to R. 

Grantaire snorted, again, and took a long swig of the water he’d been given. He stood, splaying out his arms and clearing his throat dramatically. 

“My fellow men! This is obviously a noble call to arms. Think of the Greeks!” He drawled, cup still clasped in one hand, Courfeyrac nodding and grinning at his side as if they were some kind of demented duo act. 

“The Greeks, R?” 

“The Greeks! They bedded in groups, in vast orgies! And feasted! And drank! Their fellows were their equals in intelligence, design and-,” He made a show of bowing. “In the bedroom.” 

“Unless you’re intimidated by my ability to outshine you all,” Quipped Courf, to a loud scoff from Bahorel. 

“I’m in, and I’ll show you ‘outshining’, you prick.” He leant back, throwing an arm around Ferre. 

“Bahorel, R, Jehan-?” Courf pressed on, and at Jehan’s nod, cheered. “That’s four! Joly, Bossuet, Musichetta-..?” 

Bossuet paused, before a laugh tumbled from his lips. “Why not?” 

“The eagle has landed! ‘Chetta?” Courfeyrac clapped a hand on R’s back; a silent show of gratitude for his help. 

Musichetta laughed. 

“You think you’re having my boyfriend on his own? You’ve already stolen one.” She placed a hand on Bossuet’s thigh. “I’m down.” 

Joly himself offered Courfeyrac a warm, almost eager smile. “You know I’m in, I’ve said this,” 

“Gotta double check, babe.” Courfeyrac threw his boyfriend a wink, which wasn’t missed at all, if Joly’s growing flush was anything to go by.

“I’ve never had sex with any of you, except my girlfriends,” Responded Marius, finally, looking moderately deep in thought about this. It wasn’t as easily debated as Napoleon, and definitely not as easy to say yes to when he considered the fact that these were his friends. “Wouldn’t it be awkward? And Cosette—,” 

“Bring her! She’d love it,” Interrupted R, waving off Marius with a gesture. 

It was at this that Eponine cleared her throat. 

“I’m in, if Marius and Cosette are.” She rolled her shoulders into an easy shrug. “Otherwise, it’ll be a complete sausage party.” 

Marius opened his mouth to say something, though even he had no idea what was going to come out of his mouth, before Cosette interrupted by placing her hand over his and squeezing. 

“I’m okay with it if you are,” She smiled, as soft and warm as the metaphorical blanket that covered all of his anxieties in one go as she spoke. “Eponine is more than okay with the idea, from the sounds of it,” 

“But we won’t go if you don’t want to, obviously,” Eponine added on, glancing at Marius. 

“But what if I get jealous? What if you guys get jealous?” He threw a helpless look at the two girls. 

“Love is love, and sex is mechanical, Marius. It can mean what you want it to mean,” Courfeyrac replied. “You communicate how you feel at all times and if you seem uncomfortable, we’ll stop.” 

“That was oddly philosophical for you, Courf,” Ferre said.

“I read a book,” He laughed, the sound high and almost melodical as it came from his throat.

But Marius frowned again, deeper this time, and Eponine began counting the freckles on his face. 

“I’ve never had sex with a man!” 

“Mazel Tov! Then it’ll definitely be a fun night,” Courfeyrac then wiggled his eyebrows at his best friend. “If it makes you feel better, I’ve never had sex with a Marius.” 

Colour fell across the freckles of Marius’ face and he buried it in his hands for a moment, just to breathe out. 

“One night?” 

“One night. One night of complete fun and bliss and wild orgy sex,” Courf nodded, and Bahorel patted him on the back, just as Marius sighed and nodded. 

“I guess one night couldn’t hurt, if Cosette and ‘Ponine are there with me,” 

“That’s the spirit!” 

At that, Feuilly re-appeared from the kitchen, a mug in his hands. 

“As Courf pointed out, I don’t care about the sex part. I have siblings to take care of, and two jobs,” He pressed his lips into a thin line. “Or I can’t afford to eat that week.” 

“What if we paid you to take part?” Courfeyrac replied, almost helpfully, before backtracking. “Wait, no, sorry, that sounded better in my head,” 

“Look, if I can get my siblings a babysitter, and if I get enough money this week, I’ll be able to take part. But only if it’s the weekend.” 

“We can work with that!” And Courfeyrac’s grin was back, mentally ticking Feuilly off the list, as well as leaning over and ruffling his hair. “Sorted!” 

Bahorel snorted out through his nose. “Think of it as shagging your boyfriend in front of everyone,” 

“That’s reassuring,” Feuilly rolled his eyes, going to sit next to Jehan, who massaged his shoulders in a small show of gentle affection. 

“Can we get t-shirts for this?” Jehan piped up. 

“I’m thinking, for themes, ‘Greek’,” Grantaire raised his cup, before lowering it as their leader raised from his seat, the grin falling from his lips. 

“I’m getting a black tea.” Having listened to the whole thing, Enjolras left, going to retrace Feuilly’s earlier journey to the kitchen.

“There’ll be tea at the orgy! _Enj!_ ” Courf called after him. 

“He’s so not going to join in,” Eponine mock yawned. “Good luck with that, Courf,” 

“It won’t be as easy to navigate as you think,” Combeferre spoke once more, not yet looking up from his book. 

“Are you a surprising expert in this field?” R raised an eyebrow, though his previous energy had visibly deflated. 

“No,” Ferre sighed, though he was hardly annoyed, glancing up to meet Grantaire and Courfeyrac’s gazes. “I admit that it isn’t a horrible idea, and I admit that there are aspects that work in our favour already. I trust you all completely. That said, I don’t believe that when it comes to it, it won't fall flat.” 

“Oh?” 

“The awkwardness and uncertainty of being in a sexual situation with people you’ve never had sex with will definitely overrule any arousal,” He persisted, pushing his glasses back up to their original place on his nose. 

“So you’re self-conscious,” Bahorel nudged him.

“It isn’t about me,” Ferre retorted, with a barely concealed eye roll.

“It’s about me, isn’t it?” Bahorel clicked his tongue, and Ferre looked up at him, brow furrowing. 

“What?” 

“You’re scared.” He tugged the heavy jacket firmer around him, the corners of his lips twitching as Ferre adjusted his glasses again and raised an eyebrow. “Scared of what me and my manhood are going to do to you,” 

“Scared of your manhood, Bahorel? Really.” 

“I don’t blame you.” Bahorel lowered his voice to a mock whisper. “I’ll be gentle, Ferre lady.” 

This time, Combeferre cleared his throat, biting back what was probably an amused smile as he did so. 

“Fine. I’m in. And I wouldn’t make promises that you can’t keep, Bahorel,” 

Bahorel merely smirked, and crossed his arms over his chest. 

As the group fell into conversation and idle mock bickering, Courfeyrac threw Grantaire a look and gestured to him as best he could that he’d be back, nodding in the direction of the kitchen. 

Then, he headed that way, slipping away from the rest of them to join their leader. 

“I know there’s a horny side to you, Enj, so what’s holding you back?” He verbally and physically prodded as he bumped shoulders with his friend, where Enjolras stood by the kettle. “Scared I’ll beat you to Grantaire?” 

“Don’t use that against me,” Enjolras pursed his lips for a moment, brow furrowing. Though he wasn’t upset, he was still very apparently tense, so Courfeyrac had likely hit the Grantaire nerve too early. “I don't care who any of you sleep with, I just don’t have as much experience myself and I’ve never particularly cared as much as I-....but he’s…” 

He let out a frustrated sigh, running his hand through his hair. Finally, he willed himself to relax. 

“It could definitely be something that makes it awkward between us,” He admitted. 

“Let’s look at the flip side. It could be great. Or he says no when you ask and you get closure and move on, though I have this terrible doubt that he’ll do that,” Courf encouraged, swallowing back the urge to just tell Enjolras the truth, being as he’d had to listen to both of them do this for longer than he’d surely agreed to. “And then you can loosen up a bit, you know?” 

With that, he slung his arm around Enjolras’ shoulder, squeezing him. 

“C’mon, Enj, say yes, or say no, but I gotta know so I know whether or not to call it off for you,” He said, voice lowered and almost soothing. “We follow your lead, as always.” 

Enjolras let the quiet that followed continue for a minute longer than he probably should have, before he smiled. It wasn’t uncertain, but it was still small, even if it was still genuine. 

“Fine.” 

“Fuck yeah!” Courf fist pumped. He pressed a dramatic kiss to Enjolras’ cheek, before running out into the living room and cheering. 

“He’s on board!” He whooped. 

Enjolras followed him, but as he re-entered the room, he caught Grantaire’s gaze and held it. 

For a few seconds only, he thought he saw a perfect reflection of yearning in the other’s wild eyes, circled by dark bags, but as soon as he’d thought that, R looked away. 

This was going to be interesting to say the least. 


	2. Eponine/Cosette/Marius

Oh, Eponine was definitely picking up what everyone was starting to put down. 

By everyone, she particularly meant Courfeyrac and Jehan, who were in perfect tandem and somehow surprisingly (not so much Courf, as he was a self proclaimed slut) adept at setting the mood. 

Jehan’s lack of giving a shit about being vulnerable and naked and Courfeyrac’s natural charm had easily led them to this moment, where Eponine decided she’d had enough of playing games. Truth or dare wasn’t bad, and the hour of drinking a little and getting to schmooze around with her friends had definitely relaxed things enough to get to this point. 

And speaking of points, Marius Pontmercy, her now-boyfriend, and Cosette, her now-girlfriend, were looking at her expectantly. 

“What was the dare again?” She made a show of yawning, as if she hadn’t heard Bahorel’s request. 

“Don’t pretend you didn’t hear me,” Bahorel snorted. “Rude.”

“Listen, the last three dares have been boring as fuck,” She raised an eyebrow, gesturing specifically to Grantaire, ignoring his mock affronted expression. “All ‘kiss her’ and ‘lick him’. I wasn’t paying attention.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Next time, I’ll make sure to say ‘ride your boyfriend’,” R drawled, though amusement was in his tone. 

“Well,” Eponine paused, shrugging. “That’d be better than whatever you came out with two dares ago.” 

“Pft-,” 

“And you’ve passed on like, two dares.” 

Dares that Eponine knew had involved Enjolras. 

She got it - truly. She’d been in the corner, pining after their respective crushes, right there with him, but she’d figured her crap out and now it was his turn. He couldn’t hide in misery forever. 

R averted his eyes, taking that opportunity to drink a swig of his water. 

“Go on then,” Bahorel said, leaning back against the sofa of the cosy area they’d made up in the cafe basement. 

“You sayin’ something, Bahorel?” Eponine felt the corners of her lips twitch, throwing him a narrow-eyed look. 

“Yeah. Go on, then. That’s my dare,” 

“Be more specific,” She challenged. 

“Sit on your boyfriend’s cock for the next four turns or something,” Bahorel arched an eyebrow upwards, lifting his glass to his mouth, a cocky grin on his own lips. “Unless you wanna forfeit, which you can, if you’re really not-,” 

“Jesus, how long did it take you guys?” Eponine smirked, standing up from her spot of leaning against Marius on the rug on the floor. 

He, himself, was positioned between herself and Cosette, lounging against the wall. During their game, he’d had to remove his shirt in a bid to prove that his freckles were truly everywhere, and his trousers ten minutes later when he’d spilt his drink on them. Now, he sat in his boxers, knees slightly pulled up to his chest. 

So, perfect position, really. 

For a moment, she caught her girlfriend’s gaze, and there was a pause whilst Eponine double checked silently if things could progress. 

Cosette wore a warm, bemused smile and only fifty percent of her clothes, having lost them in the course of the last hour, but no one had made much in the way of moves apart from some kisses that got pretty heavy. 

Now, there was a weird tenseness in the air, where everyone wanted things to progress, but were too chickenshit to move ahead. That said, Eponine wouldn’t do anything if she’d read the room wrong, and if one of the people she loved confirmed that. 

But Cosette just gave her a look with a gleam in her eyes that Eponine and Marius alone were usually the only ones to see. 

So Eponine, wearing very little herself but her usual corset and skirt, moved so that she faced her boyfriend, who looked up at her with a slightly slack jawed expression. 

“You heard the man, Pontmercy,” Courf called, the high sound of his laughter in his tone. 

“Wait, what?” Marius asked, a flush borne of both one glass of wine and the sudden attention crawling up his neck. 

“Well, Marius,” Eponine caught his attention before the others could, risking the chance of letting their bullshit ruin the mood. She lowered herself over his hips, pushing his knees down as she sat on his thighs. “Bahorel dared me to sit on your dick, so if you’re okay with that, that’s what I’m gonna do,” 

“Over...over the clothes?” Marius sweated. 

“You’re only wearing your boxers,” Came Cosette’s giggle, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“It’s up to you,” Eponine finally concluded, taking his chin between her fingers and lifting it up to look her in the eyes. Her voice softened. “If it gets too much, you can let me know at any point, okay?” 

Marius opened and closed his mouth, before swallowing thickly, finally settling on nodding. 

“I’m...I’m not-... _y’know,”_ He cleared his throat, looking momentarily embarrassed. 

Anyone unable to speak Pontmercy likely would have needed clarification, but Eponine just leant forward, grin wide and eyes sparkling as she pressed her lips against his ear. 

“I can help with that,” She whispered, breath hot as it fell against his skin. 

She felt him shudder beneath her weight, and she shifted so as to sit on his lap properly now, letting him shift to get comfortable. 

Well, his previous comment was a mistake (because it was against his nature to lie). Either that, or Eponine’s retort had had a very obvious effect on him already. She didn’t care which, because it didn’t matter with him blushing below her, palms flat against his chest. 

“You okay?” She asked, more for permission than anything. He _felt_ okay, and when a small smile touched his lips and as he leant against the palm of her hand when it raised to cup his cheek, she assumed she had the go ahead. 

She lowered her eyelashes and rolled her hips unceremoniously. 

Marius let out a surprised squeak, able to feel the friction as her contact landed. _Oh,_ so he was expecting her to have mercy on him. 

That was always more Cosette’s forte than hers, and he should have known that by now. 

“‘Ponine!” He gasped as she did it again, steadying his hands on her waist, but not stopping her in the slightest. 

“Complaining?” She asked, amused. 

“N-no,” He stuttered back, which was always one of her favourite things about flustering him. 

Suddenly, she saw Cosette lean in, as if to innocently prop herself against her boyfriend, but Eponine saw the way she whispered into his ear. Eponine, with her skirt hitched up and only hers and Marius’ underwear separating them, felt him twitch against her. 

So, Cosette wasn’t against playing dirty either. They were always in sync like that. 

Her smirk increased as she nipped at his jawline, trailing down his neck, and from the soft huffs of air that left her boyfriend, she knew Cosette was doing the same at the other side. 

He whined when she bit at the junction between neck and jaw, sucking at the expanse of flesh there, and when she pulled back to admire her handiwork, she immediately met his fevered gaze with her own pleased one. 

There was a moment of softness between them, before Eponine grinned and pushed him down by the shoulders, hearing Cosette laugh by her side. 

“Enough foreplay, then,” 

“That was foreplay?” R tried to quip, but she ignored him. 

“Marius,” Eponine lowered her voice, leaning down over him as he now lay on his back, trailing her hands down his bare chest. She kissed every freckle on her way down. “Ready to bite the bullet?” 

“There’s a bullet?” Marius looked up at her, both delicious and entirely breathless. 

“Actually, there might be a vibrating one in my bag,” Musichetta added, helpfully.

“Interesting. Noted for later,” Eponine laughed, enjoying herself far too much and likely discovering a few things out about herself along the way. 

“Wait, what am I biting?” Marius piped up from below her, and when she looked at him, the flush from earlier had spread from neck to ears, over the bridge of his nose. 

“Me, if you’re good,” Eponine shot back.

He laughed in response, the sound catching in his throat as she rocked her hips again, content to just watch the blush increase across his face, drowning the freckles there in a sea of red. He was so gorgeous. 

Before she could get lost in thought, realising that she had a dare and a mission all in one to get on with, she moved backwards off of his thighs, shimmying just a few inches so that she could grab his boxers with one of her fingers, tugging them slowly down so as to give him the chance to protest, should he want to. 

Which he didn’t, and she grinned. 

She trailed a digit down his now revealed cock, and just as she was about to say something, she was interrupted by the amused sound of Bossuet’s voice. 

“In a surprising turn of events, Marius is the first to get his dick out,” 

Courfeyrac faked a sniffle. 

“One minute, they’re turning up at your house asking to sleep with you...the next, you’re seeing their dick at an orgy,” 

“ _Courf,_ ” Marius keened, trapped with nowhere to go beneath Eponine’s hips, so she watched him bring his hands up to cover his face as if that could somehow lessen how exposed he currently was. 

“Pretend I’m not here!” 

“I can’t do that when you comment on my-,” 

Eponine clasped her hand around the base of him, effectively cutting him off. Marius let out a choked moan. 

“Like you want to pretend that I’m not here, Pontmercy,” Courfeyrac added on, and whatever Marius was going to say in retort died on his tongue when Eponine slid her hand upwards. 

“I want-...” 

“Go on,” Cosette chimed in this time, coming up on Eponine’s right to lean into her this time, her own hand moving down his stomach, which rose and fell with his chest. 

Eponine continued on like that for a moment, making it harder and harder for her boyfriend to remember how to speak as her deft fingers moved along his length. Finally, with her voice pitched low and with Cosette’s encouragement, she spoke to him, softly. 

“Say it, and I’ll do it,” 

“I want-…” He swallowed, burying his face in his hands once again. “I want to be inside you…” 

“Call me Eponine the genie,” Her eyelashes fluttered. “Because it’s time to grant that wish for you,” 

At R’s nearby snort, she threw him a quick cursory glare, before directing her attention back to more worthy pursuits. 

“Hey, ignore them for a sec,” Eponine cooed down at her boyfriend, spurred on by the way Cosette ran her hand up her thigh. To emphasise her point, she squeezed her hand around him again. He groaned through his teeth. “You got this, okay?” 

Marius nodded up at her, face now so bright red, it was hard to make out his defining birthmarks. 

That was all she needed in terms of encouragement, lifting up her skirt further as she slipped her underwear to the side. As she hovered over him, he peered through his fingers at her, watching her every movement with a heady, weak gaze. 

She lowered herself down onto his length, with him sliding easily into her wetness. Letting out a satisfied sigh, she let him sheath himself completely in her, stopping only for him to catch his breath. 

“You good?” She asked, tone soft but firm as Cosette pressed a kiss to her cheek. 

Eponine watched as she leant over and pulled Marius up by his arm, so that he was sitting up again and they could see his face without the shield of his hands. 

“We want to see you, my love,” She said, softly, and he let out another held breath. Eponine felt him twitch inside her. 

“Yeah, go on, my son!” Bahorel yelled out. 

“It’s a pretty decent show,” Courfeyrac admitted, with a very deliberate waggle of his eyebrows that his best friend failed to miss. 

“Wanna see my tits, Courf?” Ep’ looked over her shoulder, grinning wide, all teeth. 

“Hell yeah!” 

“You have tits?” Grantaire called out, before being clonked on the head with one of Eponine’s discarded, balled-up socks. 

Then, she lifted herself up (not without a very noticeable noise from her boyfriend) and swivelled where she was placed, shifting her weight so that she faced the rest of them now, and Marius’ front was pressed to her back. 

Cosette, always able to take the initiative Eponine set out for her to get, moved to her front and pressed her soft lips to hers. Her pink lipstick left a mark on Eponine’s own lips, which she would have known about if she had any inclination to stop kissing her. 

She felt Marius’ hands cup her breasts, pinching her nipples, and this time it was her turn to gasp audibly, against Cosette’s parted mouth. 

So, to get her own back, she lifted her hips and dropped them down onto him, all in one fluid motion. 

Time dropped away briefly - in this bubble they were stuck in, they lost track of the others people currently present in the room. To some degree, at least, because Eponine wanted them to see. 

The slight thrill sent a shiver like lightning up her spine.

Her hands came up, making fists in Cosette’s blonde bangs, pulling her into a deeper kiss as she rocked her hips, shuddering with each sensation that his cock rubbing against her deeper core caused. 

Just as her hand was about to dip into Cosette’s underwear, she looked up and saw the direction of Courf’s gaze, connected to Marius’. 

“You okay there, baby boy?” He said to him.

Then, Marius seized up. 

As in, really seized up, pressing his face against Eponine’s back and letting out stuttered gasps, hips bucking as if he were trying so hard for it to not be noticeable. 

Eponine stopped, a breathless laugh leaving her as she halted her movement, glancing over her shoulder to look at him. Of course. _Of course._

Well, whatever that was, she was filing it away for later. For sexy purposes.

“Did you just-?” She began. 

“Maybe,” He whimpered. 

Cosette laughed too, the sound so far from unkind, so fond. 

“Dare done, ‘Ponine,” Bahorel suddenly spoke up, lifting his drink in respect. “Nice one,” 

“Duh, you were all being pussies,” She said, somewhat triumphantly. 

Jehan stood, pouting. 

“Does that mean it’s over?” He looked between them all. 

Courfeyrac stood, clapping his hands together. 

“Fuck no baby,” He announced, brightly, a mischievous and wicked gleam of his own in his eyes. “It’s my turn to be dared.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I said that it jumps straight into it! 
> 
> All I can say in my defence is that as someone who is part of a polycule of polyam queer people, this happens more than you think LMFAO


	3. Courfeyrac/Joly

Jehan had gleefully stepped up, clapping his hands together as Courfeyrac offered himself to be dared. He hadn’t expected Marius to be the first one to get his dick out but Courfeyrac was so, so proud of him. 

Not to mention he now had some excellent ammo on Marius. He was definitely filing the ‘baby boy’ thing away for later purposes. Marius was long overdue a gay experience.

But for now he spread his arms out, nodding to Jehan as if accepting his challenge. 

“Do your worst, Prouvaire. The floor is yours.”

“Alright. Seduce someone with one word.”

Courfeyrac scoffed, expecting something on the calibre that Bahorel had set. This was tame when he’d had Eponine ride her boyfriend in front of everyone.

“That’s it? Easy.” Courfeyrac sauntered over to where Joly sat, leaning over him so his hands rested on Joly’s thighs and his mouth was only inches away from the other man’s. An easy smirk played across Courfeyrac’s face as he saw the way Joly’s eyes lit up. 

“Hey.”

Courfeyrac has a foolproof formula here - pitch his voice low, keep the volume soft, and ham up his accent for all it was worth. His smile spread to show his teeth, where he bit the ball bearing of his tongue bar between his canines. His eyes locked onto Joly’s and sure enough, he saw the way his boyfriend melted beneath that gaze, giggling a little as a flush spread over his face. 

“I wasn’t finished.” Jehan continued, sounding very smug. Courfeyrac flicked his eyes over and saw Jehan had his arms folded across his chest, looking far more confident than anyone who dressed like that should. Not that he was very dressed anymore.

“Oh? Do go on.” Combeferre sounded curious, as if he really hadn’t expected this to happen but wasn’t entirely put out by it. He really doubted Courfeyrac’s abilities; if he hadn’t been so sure it would work, he would never have brought it up. 

“ _ If _ you manage it, you have to do whatever that person wants.”

“If? You wound me, Jehan.” 

When Courfeyrac turned his attention back to Joly, he replaced his piercing with his tongue, running it along the sharp edges of his teeth. He winked, chuckling lowly. Joly only giggled again. Courfeyrac could have seduced him with no words at all.

“You heard the man. I’m all yours.”

“I should hope so,” Now Joly seemed to have put himself together enough to flirt back, his own smile turning to something wicked that delighted Courfeyrac to his core. “After that display.”

“You’ve not seen anything yet.”

“Oh, I know.” 

“Get on with it!” Bahorel’s voice boomed across the room, breaking the moment. It only made Courfeyrac fall against Joly as they both broke into laughter, his head now resting comfortably in the space between Joly’s shoulder and neck. 

Which put Courfeyrac in an excellent position to bring things back again. As much as he loved hearing Joly laugh, he was here with a purpose. He moved so his lips were gently pressed against the skin of Joly’s neck, feeling the way the muscles beneath them tensed slightly. 

“So what are you planning to do with me?”

Joly hummed softly, the fingers of one hand already carding through Courfeyrac’s hair. He tilted his head to the side so Courfeyrac could continue up his neck, stopping only to mouth at the point where he could feel Joly’s pulse thrum beneath his lips, smiling as he was able to feel the way it picked up.

It was taking a lot of self-control to not crawl into Joly’s lap and kiss him senseless, but the dare meant he was waiting on Joly’s command and in truth, that made something warm sit pleasantly in Courfeyrac’s gut. He loved it when Joly had to spell out what he wanted.

“I want you to go lie down.” 

Well, Courfeyrac could definitely manage that. He let his teeth clamp down slightly around the skin beneath them and heard Joly gasp a little above him. When he finally pulled away he practically sauntered away to where they had made a little nest of pillows in the corner, turning around and flopping down on them unceremoniously. 

“This it? You planning on having a nap, babe?”

Joly was already walking over by the time Courfeyrac had gotten comfortable and he preened a little as he saw Joly looking him over, stretching to put himself on display as much as possible. Someone laughed, but Courfeyrac wasn’t looking. He made sure his eyes never left Joly’s, flashing his teeth again as he grinned.

“I just wanted you lying down - you look like you could do with some attention.” 

They’d played this game enough for Courfeyrac to immediately pick up on what Joly was doing, eyes gleaming with delight as he pressed the back of one of his hands to his forehead, sighing dramatically.

“You’re right, doctor. I might need a full-body exam.”

“Are you guys really doing this?” Feuilly piped up unhelpfully. “That has to be the most cliche line in the book.” 

Courfeyrac pursed his lips a little, shooting Feuilly a look. As much as he was really enjoying having an audience, participation was only appreciated if it was going to be helpful.

“Doctor, I’m seeing a really annoying man in the corner.”

Joly laughed at that, coming down to kneel next to Courfeyrac with humour in his eyes. He was so fucking pretty. 

“I think you might need a different doctor for that.” Joly looked over to where Combeferre was sitting and he just gave a good-natured hum in response.

“Hmm, I really think there’s a few ways you can make me forget about him.” Courfeyrac purred and Joly was immediately focused on him again, pupils blown wide already. Courfeyrac knew him well enough to know which buttons to press. 

“Wow, he brought it back. I’m impressed with his improv.” Jehan quipped, sitting back down next to Feuilly. At least he had the decency to look genuine. Courfeyrac nodded to him in approval, but that was all Jehan got in terms of answers.

Joly shifted to swing one of his legs over Courfeyrac’s waist, settling so he was comfortably straddling Courfeyrac. Almost on instinct, Courfeyrac’s hands went to hold onto Joly’s waist in turn, grinning wolfishly at him.

Joly dragged one of his fingers down the centre of Courfeyrac’s chest, head tilting to the side until it reached the hem of his shirt. He then hooked that finger under the hem and slowly began to pull the shirt up, exposing Courfeyrac’s stomach inch by inch.

“What if I rode your dick until I can’t think straight? You think that would do it?” Now it was Joly’s turn to smirk, not even faltering when someone wolf-whistled at him. 

Courfeyrac could only swear under his breath, hips shifting a little as those words went straight to his dick. They were both wearing way too many clothes and Courfeyrac let his hands slip under Joly’s shirt to feel the bare skin of his stomach. He gripped Joly’s hips once more and pulled him down, both of them gasping at the small amount of friction the movement gave them.

“This is your show, baby. You tell me what you want.”

Joly whined a little, giving up pretense to grip properly at Courfeyrac’s shirt so he could pull it off over his head. Courfeyrac moved his hands away so he could help, but immediately returned the favour, tossing Joly’s shirt somewhere in Bahorel’s direction once he had it off. Joly looked down at him with intent.

“I definitely want to ride you.”

“Yeah? You want it hard?” Courferyrac rolled his hips up as if to emphasise his point and Joly’s head fell back, sighing and grinding down as he chased that friction. “Or should I fuck you nice and slow?”

“ _ Fuck _ , I just want you inside me.” 

“Anything you want, babe.” 

Not that Courfeyrac would ever argue against that - he could feel the way his cock strained against his clothes, Joly’s weight doing little to alleviate that pressure. His hands immediately went to unbutton Joly’s jeans, working even as Joly leaned down to capture Courfeyrac’s mouth with his own.

He parted his lips immediately, tongue sliding against Joly’s and he both felt and heard the way Joly moaned into his mouth when Courfeyrac got his jeans undone and slipped his palm inside, rubbing Joly’s cock through his boxers. 

Courfeyrac moved his hand so it dipped beneath the elastic of Joly’s boxers, just about able to grip him with the angle they had. He felt Joly thrust into his fist, no longer kissing him but rather just panting into Courfeyrac’s mouth. 

“ _ Courf _ .”   


“I know, I’ve got you.” He moved his hand away and laughed softly at the disappointed whine Joly gave him before he hooked his thumbs under both the hem of Joly’s jeans and underwear and pulled. Joly immediately got the hint and lifted his hips, moving wherever Courfeyrac wanted him if it meant he was naked. 

He didn’t even get the chance to start undressing himself before Joly was practically clawing at his boxers (his jeans had gone some time during truth or dare) and Courfeyrac laughed again as he lifted his own hips so Joly could get rid of them. He looked wild like this and honestly, Courfeyrac was kind of addicted to seeing it.

Courfeyrac paused, holding a hand out to his side and making a beckoning motion with his hand. 

“Lube, someone?” 

There was some grumbling and shuffling but Courfeyrac felt something land in his hand after a few moments, Musichetta looking down at him with a wink. 

“As the other resident Joly-fucking experts, we will be grading you on this.” Her hair flicked behind her as she turned to walk away and, unable to contain himself, Courfeyrac laughed properly this time. When Bossuet gave him two thumbs up, he only started up again. 

“Better not disappoint, then.” 

Courfeyrac gathered himself enough to flick the cap of the bottle open, raising an eyebrow at Joly as he poured some of the liquid onto his hand, letting the bottle fall from his palm once he was done. He made a show of spreading it over his fingers, eyes catching on the way Joly’s tongue peeked out to wet his lips. 

Joly gasped when he felt Courfeyrac’s now slick fingers press gently against his entrance, already pushing back against them and keening when he didn’t initially get what he wanted. Courfeyrac chuckled softly, but he was never any good at denying Joly anything. So before Joly could actively protest, he pushed one finger in, swearing lowly at the tightness around it. 

Joly sighed in clear relief, already rocking hips before Courfeyrac could move his finger. His free hand ran slowly up and down Joly’s thigh as he finally began to set a slow but thorough rhythm, pulling his finger almost entirely free before sinking it back in again. 

They’d done this enough times - he knew when to add a second finger, curling them as they sank into Joly as deep as they could. The moan he got in response told Courfeyrac everything he needed to know, as did Joly’s eyes - now glassy, not so much looking at Courfeyrac as he was looking through him. 

“There?”

“There.” Joly nodded, voice barely above a whisper and breathless. Instead of pulling his fingers out again, he instead pressed harder where they were. Joly yelped as his hips began to grind down even harder, cursing loudly. 

Courfeyrac kept changing things up like that - sometimes thrusting his fingers in and out, other times just curling them inside Joly right where he knew it counted. It took a fair amount of restraint to not give in to the way the noises Joly made affected him. It was always an incredible turn-on to see him like that, but Courfeyrac knew Joly sounded so good when he begged, and he knew how close he was to getting there.

But damn, it was so hard for Courfeyrac to not fuck him right there. He was about to make a mental joke about what else was hard, but Joly interrupted his thoughts.

“Courf, just...oh,  _ fuck _ ...please…”

There it was. That breathless whine Joly always had when he was begging for it got Courfeyrac going every single time. His hips twitched at it and he wasn’t sure he could tease Joly even if he had wanted to. 

Besides, he was honour-bound to do whatever Joly wanted. Who was he to argue with that?

Courfeyrac drew his fingers out completely, grinning at the unimpressed noise Joly made when he did. He’d wipe that frown off Joly’s face soon enough and made sure his boyfriend knew that, making a real show of grabbing more lube and slowly spreading it over his dick, sighing at the relief his hand gave him. His smirk grew as he watched Joly watch him fuck his own fist, eyes transfixed on it. 

Maybe someone complained when Courfeyrac wiped his hand on the cushions beside him - he wasn’t really listening. He was much more focused on pulling Joly’s hips where he wanted them, head tilting back when he felt the tip of his dick press against Joly’s entrance, Joly’s hips already shifting to push down onto him.

Courfeyrac groaned loudly as he finally bucked his hips upwards and slowly, inch by inch, pressed into Joly. He let his eyes fall shut for a few moments before he forced them open so he could watch the blissed out expression on Joly’s face. 

He was already making the most filthy noises.

Joly sank down to meet him and for a few moments they sat there, panting heavily as Joly squirmed, sharp gasps punctuating his breathing every so often. 

Courfeyrac knew what he was doing - every time he moved, he would feel the small balls on either side of the head of Courfeyrac’s dick press against him. Joly had been pretty fixated on his dick piercing since he’d found out Courfeyrac had one. Not that Courfeyrac would ever complain.

So he used his hands on Joly’s hips to encourage him back up again, slow so he could really feel the metal drag against him. That was all the encouragement Joly had needed - he raised himself up and fell back down just as Courfeyrac lifted his own hips, thrusting deeply into Joly. 

The noise Joly made sounded like it had been punched out of him and he was lifting himself up again before Courfeyrac could even encourage him to. So he lifted his knees to brace himself against the pillows and gripped harder on Joly’s hips to give himself enough leverage to thrust up harder, meeting Joly each time he dropped down so each thrust drove him in as deep as he could go.

Courfeyrac swore roughly as he was taken in by that tight heat again and again, panting harshly as he picked up his pace, shifting his hips slightly. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good,” 

Joly whined in response to the praise and Courfeyrac didn’t hold back, letting it fall openly from his lips.

“Always so fucking tight, babe...s-shit..”

Joly’s head fell forward as he continued to rise and fall on Courfeyrac’s dick, only alternating between moaning obscenely and swearing to himself. He already looked so out of it - Courfeyrac couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

Then Courfeyrac shifted his hips again and Joly’s back went straight, head snapping up and eyes wide as he yelped. Courfeyrac couldn’t stop the smirk at the reaction - now he had Joly right where he wanted him.

“That good?” He breathed, his accent now thicker without Courfeyrac meaning for it to. Joly nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh fuck, right- _ aah _ -right there, love, d-don’t stop…”

Courfeyrac was only spurred on by that, hips driving in as deep as he could, aiming for that same spot each time. A litany of curses spilled from his lips, his own head thrown back with the delicious drag of Joly’s body against him. 

But Joly, he was absolutely stunning. He was looking up at the ceiling, though Courfeyrac would bet money that Joly wasn’t focusing on anything he was seeing. His pupils were blown so wide the blue in them was barely visible and his mouth hung open as he panted for breath, moaning out so loudly each time Courfeyrac slammed into him that he was practically shouting. 

The only coherent words Joly seemed capable of making were Courfeyrac’s name and constant pleas for him to not stop. As if he could ever pull himself away from the perfect heat and tightness of Joly’s body. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” The sentence fell away to a groan as Courfeyrac completely worked on instinct, at times not even pulling out of Joly but instead just grinding his hips against him. It made Joly shriek every time. 

Courfeyrac could gladly have lived in that moment forever. But he could hear the way Joly’s voice was taking a slightly desperate edge and decided to have mercy on him. One of his hands let go of Joly’s hips to wrap around his cock, fingers slick with sweat and precum. He squeezed as he dragged his hand over it, thumb pressing against the head each time he reached it. 

Joly was definitely shouting now, hips moving short, erratic thrusts as he was torn between sinking onto Courfeyrac’s dick and thrusting into his fist. He completely let go of talking in favour of moaning and whining out his pleasure, eyes squeezing shut only to snap open moments later. He looked almost wild with it and Courfeyrac couldn’t tear his eyes away.

He knew where this was going. Joly wouldn’t hold out for much longer now - Courfeyrac could tell by the pitch of his voice and the way his hips constantly fell out of rhythm with his own. Joly was chasing his own pleasure now and Courfeyrac was more than happy to let him, pulling Joly down roughly on him as his hand continued to squeeze and stroke along his cock. 

“I-I-mmm! C-Courf, god, fuck!”

He was close now and Courfeyrac was glad for that, because he wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to be able to hold back. He felt that heat centring in his gut, spreading across his body until he felt it in the tips of his fingers and toes. It wound tighter and tighter each time he thrust into Joly, like a coil ready to snap. 

He was just determined to see Joly over first. 

Courfeyrac didn’t have to wait long for what he wanted. Joly only managed a few more thrusts before he sank down completely and Courfeyrac groaned through his teeth as he felt Joly clench around him, increasing that seemingly impossible tightness. Joly practically screamed to the heavens as his eyes widened, fingers curling into fists on Courfeyrac’s chest. He painted Courfeyrac’s stomach and chest as he came, hips stuttering still as he rode out the aftershocks. 

The way Joly’s body tightened around his cock only drove Courfeyrac closer to his own release, his hips thrusting up with abandon as he chased the heat that continued to rise inside him. His breaths were so ragged that they were vocal, eyes closing as he focused only on the pleasure that took over all of his senses. 

He went on like that for a few moments more before his body went taught and that coil finally snapped free. He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter against pleasure so intense he felt drunk on it, every part of his body alight with it. Joly’s name fell from his lips like a prayer as Courfeyrac came inside him, hips bucking up wildly as if he could reach even deeper inside him. 

He keened through the last of it until his muscles finally relaxed completely, letting Courfeyrac fall bonelessly against the cushions. His eyes opened blearly, greeting him with the sight of Joly still on top of him, arms visibly shaking with the effort of holding himself up. Both of them were breathing heavily, just looking at each other. 

Joly finally gave in and used the last of his strength to pull himself off Courfeyrac’s dick, shivering a little as he did. He collapsed next to Courfeyrac and despite the absolute mess Joly had made of him, he happily let Courfeyrac wrap an arm around his shoulder and pull him against his side. 

Courfeyrac was the first one to break the silence, letting out a breathless laugh. Joly mimicked it, now resting his palm against the point where Courfeyrac’s heart hammered against his ribs. Courfeyrac took that hand in his own, raising it to his lips to press a kiss to Joly’s knuckles before letting it go back to his chest. He then turned his head so he could press another kiss to the crown of Joly’s head. 

“Seriously? You guys are cuddling now?” Eponine pulled a face, as if she had been totally unbothered by them fucking in front of her but drew the line at intimacy. Courfeyrac stuck his tongue out at her.

“All part of the process, ‘Ponine.” 

He then turned to where Musichetta and Bossuet were sat, grinning widely at them.

“So what’s my score?”

Musichetta hummed as if in thought, looking pensive for a split-second.

“A solid A, I’d reckon.”

“An A? The man can’t even talk! That’s worth an A*.” Courfeyrac argued back, laughing again. Joly seemed to want no input in the conversation, humming contentedly against Courfeyrac’s side. Unfortunately for him, Bossuet didn’t feel like being merciful. 

“Let’s ask the man himself. What’s your thoughts, Joly?”

“Huh?” 

That got a laugh out of everyone as Joly perked up a little, looking as if he hadn’t even been listening in the first place. He didn’t seem bothered - dropping his head back down again. 

“I’m afraid we’ll have to concede, in lieu of a counter-argument. The A* stands.” Bossuet announced, bowing his head as if he were bestowing some honour on Courfeyrac. For his part, Courfeyrac just preened a little, looking very smug. 

“Thank you all, I’m here all night.”

“Is your dick though?” Grantaire quipped, throwing a towel at Courfeyrac as he did. “Sort yourself out.”

Courfeyrac laughed as he grabbed the towel, making a half-hearted attempt to clean himself off. He’d fix it when his limbs wanted to cooperate more. 

“Don’t worry, R. I’ll make time for you.” Courfeyrac winked and Grantaire sighed and rolled his eyes, but Courfeyrac saw the way he smiled a little as he did so. 

But for now Courfeyrac was comfortable basking in that familiar post-sex afterglow, the arm around Joly’s shoulders moving so he could run his hands through Joly’s hair. He got a happy sigh for his efforts. 

“Well, dare done.” Jehan stated as if he were settling a tab. Bahorel raised an eyebrow at him. 

“We’re still doing that?” 

Jehan shrugged at him.

“Worth confirming, anyway.”

Courfeyrac rested his head against the top of Joly’s, smiling as he let the conversation happen around him. At some point someone would want to move them and Courfeyrac had a list of people to impress, but he was happy where he was for now. 

“Love you, babe.”

“Love you too.” 


	4. Courfeyrac/Marius

Marius saw it as Courfeyrac sidled up next to him on the sofa. He had just gotten over the embarrassment of knowing all his friends saw him being...intimate with his girlfriends, but he knew Courfeyrac well. He knew he was up to something from the gleam in his deep, forest green eyes.

And it wasn’t as if Marius hadn’t noticed his friend was attractive, because he was. And it was perfectly okay for him to understand how people fell for Courfeyrac’s smirks, or acknowledge his charm and charisma. 

But Marius had never been the target before. Sure, Courfeyrac would joke-flirt with him now and again, but Marius didn’t even have to face him to know there was intent. He wasn’t sure how much he could take.

“So, Marius.”

“Yeah?”

Marius’ first mistake was facing Courfeyrac. Now he could see the way Courfeyrac’s eyes sparkled, or how he ran the top of his tongue bar slowly across his teeth. Even that made Marius blush.

“You had quite the reaction back there.” 

“Huh?” Marius’ voice caught high in his throat, face heating even further. He had hoped Courfeyrac would have the mercy to not bring that up. Marius hadn’t even known that would happen - it just did. “Who’s Marius?”

Okay, there was playing dumb and then there was whatever the hell Marius just did. In his panic to play it off, he’d come out with the worst possible lie. Luckily, Courfeyrac had only given him a good-natured laugh, familiar enough that Marius felt a little more comfortable. He even managed to smile back.

“Oh, my sweet, baby boy.” 

That knocked the smile right off Marius’ face and he buried it in his hands, whining. He could feel the way his whole body seemed to heat up with the endearment and Marius didn’t even know that could happen from a nickname, but maybe this was one of Courfeyrac’s special powers.

“ _Courf_!”

“Marius, you cannot deny that I played some part in your last orgasm. But I cannot discount the work of our dear Eponine,” Hearing her name, Eponine took an exaggerated bow. “Therefore, I must make sure I am entirely responsible for your next one.”

Marius whined again. He thought he would be able to brush off Courfeyrac’s flirting and stick with Cosette and Eponine, but here he was. He was squirming slightly where he sat, not sure what to make of the way his body responded to Courfeyrac’s proposal. 

He was so sure he wasn’t into guys. He had lived with Courfeyrac! He’d seen him naked more times than he could count. Surely Marius would have figured it out then. But here he was, unable to get the thought out of his head. 

“You can hide your face, Pontmercy, but your dick’s speaking volumes.” There was humour in Courfeyrac’s voice and Marius dared to peek out from between his fingers, in time to watch Courfeyrac’s smirk widen. Marius decided to hide his face completely again, wondering exactly why he was still responding to the way Courfeyrac spoke to him.

He felt the sofa shift and felt the heat from Courfeyrac’s body as he moved closer. When he spoke again, his voice was softer and not so sultry.

“You can say no, you know. Whatever happens, nothing’s gonna change between us. I don’t expect anything from you.”

Courfeyrac had always had a way of easing Marius’ mind. They’d spent years making each other feel better but Marius had always believed that Courfeyrac was better at it. He always seemed to know exactly what to say. Marius felt himself relax again, somewhat bolstered by the reassurance. Courfeyrac wasn’t expecting him to do anything and he wouldn’t think of Marius any differently. 

“I...um, I-I can’t say that I haven’t...um...that I haven’t...thought about it.” Marius trailed off at the end of his sentence, mortified that he’d even confessed to that. He had convinced himself it was just because they were so close and Courfeyrac had been off having sex all the time. Marius had imagined, a couple of times, what exactly Courfeyrac was capable of, every time he saw another strange girl or guy look at his friend with stars in their eyes. 

“Oh, is that so?” 

Marius didn’t have to look up to see the smile on Courfeyrac’s face. He sounded positively gleeful. When Marius did look out from his hands, he saw Eponine raise an eyebrow at him. Cosette just shrugged, a smile on her face.

“Can’t say I’m surprised, my love.”

“You cannot leave it there, Marius. You have to tell me.” Courfeyrac leaned over him to pull his hands away from his face. Marius wasn’t sure what to do with them now - not that he could do much with Courfeyrac holding him by the wrists, but he knew if he pulled away, Courfeyrac would let go. 

“Come on, baby boy. Tell me what you thought about me doing to you.” 

That was it. Courfeyrac has pitched his voice low, his accent sounding thicker than usual and there was no denying that Marius wanted it now. He was very, very aware of how hard he was. 

“I can’t just say it!”

“Oh, you’re letting me guess? I love games.” 

Marius shook his head as Courfeyrac continued, one hand letting go of his wrist to trail softly up his arm, tracing over his collarbone when he reached the top. Marius looked over to Cosette and Eponine and saw both of them looking somewhere between amused and wanting. It was reassuring that they were both okay, but it didn’t take away any of the intensity of Courfeyrac’s attention. 

With Marius not giving him anything to work with, Courfeyrac continued to talk. Marius wished he could be as charming and sure of himself, but his brain wasn’t working to provide any coherent thoughts. 

“Did you think about me touching you?” Courfeyrac’s fingers started to drag down his chest and Marius shivered at the touch, eyes falling shut involuntarily. He heard Courfeyrac let out a pleased hum next to him. “Did you wonder what my mouth would feel like around your cock?”

Marius gasped out at that, back arching into his touch when he felt Courfeyrac run the tips of his fingers over one of his nipples. He keened high in his throat again, feeling like he should be doing something but unable to make his body move. It sounded like Courfeyrac had him exactly where he wanted him and now Marius really understood why so many people went home with him. 

“Courf…”

“Yeah? That what you want?” 

The hand that had been holding Marius’ wrist still let go to run through his hair, nails dragging against the back of his neck with just enough pressure that Marius’ legs went weak. The hand that had been on his chest continued slowly downwards, a finger tracing around his navel. 

Courfeyrac was entirely in his element here, but Marius could see the various ways Courfeyrac was giving him the option to back out. He wasn’t sure he did want to now; a part of him thought he might feel more awkward if he did. He’d gone this far, he may as well get an answer to his questions. 

“May I pitch to you, Marius, that he has his tongue pierced?” Joly looked up at him and Marius opened his eyes, catching the amusement in Joly’s eyes. There was something else there too, but it looked very similar to the expressions Cosette and Eponine were giving him. No doubt Courfeyrac wouldn’t be there if Joly hadn’t said it was okay.

“Does that make a difference?”

“It makes a difference.”

Courfeyrac and Joly both answered at the same time, Courfeyrac sounding mischievous while Joly sounded almost wistful. They both made a delighted face at each other before Courfeyrac turned his attention back to Marius. 

“Why don’t you let me show you?”

Courfeyrac slid off the sofa so effortlessly that Marius could only watch him as he fell gracefully to his knees. He now sat in front of Marius, arms resting across Marius’s thighs. Marius looked up again at Cosette and Eponine, not sure if he wanted reassurance or just wasn’t sure he could keep looking at his oldest friend on his knees before him.

“Courf’s always said he wants to be your first gay experience.” Eponine shrugged, giving Grantaire a brief greeting as he sat down with them.

“Yeah, how are you guys about that?”

“Have you heard us speak up yet?” Cosette supplied, something vaguely wicked in her tone. She smiled sweetly enough, but Marius knew she wasn’t just being amicable. “I think we should let them have their moment.”

“Agreed,” Eponine nodded, taking a sip of her drink. “Give him hell, Courf.”

“Court rules in favour of me sucking your dick!” Courfeyrac proclaimed, arms coming up in triumph. He suddenly fixed Marius with a more serious expression, mouthing _you okay_ at him. Marius struggled to express his want to Cosette and Eponine, let alone Courfeyrac. This opened up a whole new set of thoughts to deal with.

But Marius nodded anyway, because the truth was he didn’t want Courfeyrac to back off now. He’d only be wondering what he had missed if he backed out now, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t already seen Courfeyrac in action. Everyone else had been singing his praises and Marius had been curious long before Courfeyrac had come to sit with him.

“What’s the hold up?”

“Consent always, ‘Ponine!” Courfeyrac chirped before he pushed Marius’ legs open, shuffling in even closer. He bent his head so Marius could feel the heat of his breath against his cock and he gasped again, squirming as if he could get more of it. He heard Courfeyrac chuckle softly and only offered a whine in response.

“You’re so easy to work up.”

“S-stop...teasing me…”

“Ask nicely.” Courfeyrac had a smirk back on his face, dragging his lips up against Marius’ length as he spoke, flicking his tongue out across the skin there. Marius felt restless and like he would explode if his face got any redder.

“P- _please_.”

That seemed to satisfy Courfeyrac, while Marius could faintly hear Cosette tut teasingly about how cruel he was. He was inclined to agree right until he felt Courfeyrac’s mouth around him, sliding down slowly. Marius practically shrieked as more of that wet heat enveloped him, so slowly it almost felt agonising but also amazing at the same time. 

He didn’t dare look down. He wasn’t sure he could handle the picture before him right now. Instead, Marius threw his head back and squeezed his eyes closed, fingers closing into fists and opening again at his sides. 

“Oh, he doesn’t mind if you pull his hair. He likes it, actually.” Joly suggested, tone so casual he may as well have been talking about the weather. Marius couldn’t actually find the words to answer him, so he continued to pant harshly while he let one of his hands rest on Courfeyrac’s head, fingers closing around his soft curls.

That got him a hum of encouragement and Marius couldn’t stop his hips from bucking slightly, breaths ragged as Courfeyrac moved his mouth back up with the same slow pace, except this time he lay his tongue flat against Marius’ cock and Marius could feel the small ball in the centre of Courfeyrac’s tongue. He moaned softly with the pressure it added. 

One of Courfeyrac’s palms was resting on the inside of Marius’ thighs, not doing anything exactly except provide a point of warmth and steady him. He wasn’t even trying to still Marius’ hips, letting them continue to make small, desperate thrusts as Marius tried to control himself. 

The other hand was wrapped around the base of Marius’ dick, holding him as Courfeyrac’s mouth continued to glide along him. Occasionally, Courfeyrac would let his mouth slide off so he could flick his tongue across the slit of Marius’ dick. It made Marius moan out loudly every time and he could feel the smirk on Courfeyrac’s lips. 

Courfeyrac spent some time running his mouth along Marius’ length, laying his tongue flat each time he rose up just so Marius could feel the pressure point of his tongue bar and the way it pressed against his flesh, following the veins there. Marius couldn’t stop the way he squirmed against the sensation or the way his fingers flexed in Courfeyrac’s hair, his other hand gripping the fabric of the sofa tightly.

He felt like he couldn’t get enough air; everything around him was thick and warm and Marius’ point of reference for the world had narrowed down to Courfeyrac’s mouth on his dick. He would whine out Courfeyrac’s name when he wanted more and was rewarded every time. 

When Courfeyrac took Marius back into his mouth again, Marius gasped as if he had been punched. Courfeyrac had hollowed his cheeks in, creating a delicious tightness around Marius as he continued to sink lower and lower.

And then the hand that had been on his cock moved away, replaced by Courfeyrac’s mouth.

Marius was vaguely aware of a voice that could have been Grantaire’s saying something about showing off, but he really couldn’t think. He could feel the muscles of Courfeyrac’s throat contract sporadically around him and he was completely enveloped in that tight, wet heat. Marius would never admit to the noise he made then.

“H-how...ah!” 

Courfeyrac had flattened his tongue again, the small ball there continuing to press against Marius. He finally opened his eyes and groaned lowly as his eyes caught on the sight of his best and oldest friend, mouth stretched around his cock.

“He doesn’t have a gag reflex.” Joly added once again, sounding almost proud. 

Marius was suddenly very conflicted. No one would get him like Courfeyrac did - they had too much history. And he felt more than comfortable with him, but this wasn’t Cosette or Eponine. Marius had spent all of his life believing he was straight right until he had Courfeyrac on his knees and now he was having to confront that.

Until Courfeyrac began bobbing his head, pace faster than the one he had set before and each time taking Marius in his entirety. Marius groaned with it, following Courfeyrac’s movements with his hips, not even realising he was chasing more of that feeling. 

“You’re...oh, _god_...you’re really-ah...g-good at this…”

Courfeyrac hummed something noncommittal and that alone had Marius writhing where he sat. He had no idea how Courfeyrac was doing this but it made Marius feel like his skin was electric. It pushed all thoughts about his identity right out of his mind, brain unable to comprehend anything that wasn’t the way Courfeyrac’s mouth was making him feel.

He wasn’t even too bothered about the frankly obscene noises he was making, alternating between whining, moaning and just letting himself babble praises to Courfeyrac, even feeling bold enough to ask for more.

“P-lease...god, Courf, please...fa- _ah_ -ster.” 

Courfeyrac hadn’t denied Marius anything so far and he didn’t start now. He picked up his pace and Marius could barely breathe. His breaths were so harsh they were audible as he moved in time with Courfeyrac, jolting each time he felt his friend swallow around him.

Marius didn’t even know what he was saying, just letting the words flow out of him as he was swept up in the way he felt. He continually marvelled at how good at this Courfeyrac was, how good he felt, how much better this was than his fleeting thoughts had imagined. 

He felt that telltale heat creeping up from his thighs, pooling deep in his stomach. Marius was almost wild with the way he moved and Courfeyrac, clearly far more experienced with this, rode them out in tandem. Marius’ eyes were shut tightly once again, head laying on its side against the back of the sofa as he whined through his teeth.

“C-Courf, wait...hah-I-I...mmm!” 

There was no way Courfeyrac didn’t know what he was trying to say - mostly because Eponine had helpfully interjected with a translation of Marius’ pleasure-riddled rambling.

“About to reach the end of the line there, Courf.”

But Marius was helpless against the way Courfeyrac only seemed to double down on his efforts, moving faster and sucking harder. Marius could feel it so intensely each time - the way his mouth tightened around his cock, tongue pressing up against him as the muscles in his throat convulsed around him.

That heat continued to build, faster and faster as Marius lost all semblance of rhythm, body acting purely on instinct and only wanting to live in the way he felt. 

“I-I...oh god, oh god, I’m...I... _ah_!”

Marius’ eyes snapped open and he only saw white, static ringing in his ears and drowning out the way he practically shrieked as he came. His whole body felt like it had electricity in its veins as he was overtaken by blinding pleasure, his hips still thrashing wildly as he rode it out. It felt like hours before Marius began to come down, his hips making a final few aborted thrusts before finally stilling.

Courfeyrac didn’t even flinch - just swallowed around him, drawing the pleasure out. Marius whined softly when it felt like too much - he felt white-hot beneath his skin, sure he would just explode if he had any more.

His vision focused again in time to watch Courfeyrac slowly drag his mouth off his cock, causing Marius to shiver a little. His legs felt weak.

Now the moment was over, Marius wasn’t sure what to do. Courfeyrac looked extremely pleased with himself and Marius could see how affected he had been by the whole experience if he looked down just a little further. 

“Wait...do I have to...to do it back?” Marius would try for Courfeyrac. Because they were best friends and he had really done a spectacular job. But he wasn’t sure how to do it, or if he would even be any good at it, or if he would even be able to coordinate his body properly…

Courfeyrac laughed, clear and genial as he finally pulled Marius’ now lax hand from his head, placing it on his own thigh. When he spoke, his voice sounded a little raspy and Marius wasn’t prepared to follow that thought too far.

“I’m sure we’ll get a dick in that mouth of yours one day, Pontmercy, but not tonight.” His smile was kind and he looked so relaxed, like this wasn’t a big deal at all. It made Marius feel a little more at ease, even if that first comment made his brows furrow a little.

“I still got him there quicker.” Eponine gloated and Marius found the strength to hide his face in his hands once again.

“Dear ‘Ponine, that’s only because I know how to draw the experience out.” 

“Does this mean I like guys now?”

Everyone laughed when Marius lowered his hands again, looking genuinely confused. If he had enjoyed this, did it mean he was actually into men all along? Did he actually want to sleep with Courfeyrac? He didn’t want to break up with Eponine and Cosette. 

Courfeyrac turned to look at the girls, pointing his thumb back at Marius. 

“Ladies, I think he needs 2CCs of tits, stat.” 

“You’ve picked up way too much of Joly’s doctor shit.” Eponine rolled her eyes, but she and Cosette were already moving to stand so they could come sit with Marius. Cosette at least looked fond in her humour.

“Love, you don’t need to think too much into it.”

“Yeah, any hole’s a goal.” Eponine laughed at her own comment, while Marius continued to puzzle everything out.

It also felt a little selfish, when Courfeyrac had done something for him and Marius gave him nothing in return. He just wasn’t sure what to do and if he was honest, he was a little worried he might enjoy it too much. 

“What about you?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ve got a point to prove to R.” Courfeyrac winked, standing himself and looking not at all concerned that he was now wandering around with an erection. That Marius had caused. His brain wasn’t pieced back together enough to think about that.

Courfeyrac pinched one of Marius’ cheeks, smiling at him like he always had. 

“See? Nothing’s different.” 

Marius smiled back at him. As long as Courfeyrac said nothing had changed between them, he was sure it would be okay.

“Right, that depressed bastard won’t fuck himself. Take care, baby boy.” Courfeyrac winked again, already sauntering off as Marius sputtered.

“Courf! Stop it!”

“Absolutely not.” Courfeyrac waved without looking back and Marius groaned, head falling back again as he realised he was never going to live this down.


	5. Grantaire/Courfeyrac

R wanted to say that he wasn’t hiding from Courf, knowing that the man was on a very deliberate mission and R was his current target for whatever reason, but when he saw the other approach from across the cafe floor, he sunk lower into his booth and pulled his hood over his head. 

“Did you really think that’d work?” He heard Courf before he saw him, and he let out a long, very deep sigh as he looked up into the other’s grinning expression. 

“I dunno, am I invisible right now?” R raised an eyebrow, the corners of his lips twitching. 

“Let me inspect you-,” Courfeyrac purred, voice low as he took R’s face in his index finger and thumb and tilted his head from side to side. “Nope, still as ruggedly handsome as you always were!” 

When he let go, R instinctively followed the touch, blinking. He made a show of recoiling, looking Courfeyrac up and down. 

“ _ Witchcraft _ ,” He hissed theatrically, spurred on by Courf’s instant laughter. 

“I just know you well enough to know  _ all… _ ” Courfeyrac, being the bastard he was, ran a thumb along R’s lower lip. “...your weak spots.” 

R very nearly had a breakdown right there, before he shook his head, reminding himself vigilantly that his two year dry spell wasn’t about to be broken by an Irish twink with a sparkle in his eyes and a lilt to his voice. 

“How are you doing this?” 

“I just wanna know if your self proclaimed ‘blowjob king’ title is a lie or not,” Courf’s voice softened, but the playful edge was still there. He never backed down from prodding Grantaire into some kind of response, and R knew it wasn’t going to end there. 

“Oh, that,” He huffed out a laugh, finger circling the glass of water he was still nursing. “I was talking about shots, man.” 

“And I know something about you, thanks to Bahorel,” Courfeyrac added the last part in a hushed whisper, as if he were harbouring some kind of secret informant. R couldn’t help but let out a bark of a laugh. 

“Oh yeah? What’s that, then?” He lowered his eyelashes, moving to slide out of the booth and push himself into standing up. 

“I know that you dance.” 

“And?” Grantaire froze in place, trying to shrug it off. He didn’t often share out his personal details - each slipped up mistake of a word would only lead them closer to the truth of who he was.

That was a life he was trying to leave behind, and yet it crawled up his spine like the icy hand of a ghost. He couldn’t leave his history alone. 

That’s why he couldn’t enjoy himself at an orgy, and that’s why he wasn’t going to be led into something by the way Courfeyrac waggled his eyebrows at him. 

“Dance with me! I happen to be-,” Courf paused for effect, bowing and placing his left leg behind his right in one smooth sweeping motion. “-pretty solid at throwing shapes,” 

“I’ve seen you at clubs, Courf,” Grantaire snorted, folding his arms across his chest now as he looked him up and down once more. “Yeah, you can dance, but your classical or whatever training isn’t whatever the fuck I sometimes make my body do,” 

This time, Courf’s laugh was high in his throat, coming down like a melody only he knew the tune to. Behind him, a short distance across their floorspace, a few of the other Amis filtered in, able to sense the crackle in the air from a mile away. 

How could he be both completely naked and as confident as he was? He somehow made Grantaire feel more awkward for being dressed. 

“I bet you can make your body do a lot of things,” 

“Yeah, and me dancing with it isn’t as seductive as you think,” 

“How about,” Suddenly, Courfeyrac was in R’s personal space as if he’d read his mind with perfect clarity, playing with one of the threads of R’s hoodie. “You show me what you’ve got, and if you disappoint me massively, I won’t make you take the hoodie off,” 

There was that gleam in his eyes again, and Grantaire groaned as he dragged his hand down his face, which was quickly darkening in colour. His earlier comment about knowing Grantaire’s weak spots was definitely true, because he knew that R’s inability to back down from that kind of challenge would hold up. 

“Fine,” He said, finally, looking through his fingers as Courf’s grin practically spread from ear to ear. 

But just as Courf opened his mouth, R interrupted. 

“But.” 

“Oh, there’s a ‘but’?” Courf lowered his voice, though R knew in the way he didn’t push more of his boundaries that he was ready and willing to listen to whatever lines Grantaire decided to set. 

“You’ve gotta get a chair.” 

Courfeyrac didn’t say anything, but immediately did as he instructed, practically with a bounce in his step and an eyebrow arched upwards the whole time. When he’d set the wooden chair in the middle of the room, he then sat on it. 

“The floor is yours, R,” He gestured to the expanse of space before him, and R swallowed his immediate regret when he saw, over Courfeyrac’s shoulder, Enjolras join the few making no effort to hide their presence at the other end of the room. 

“Bahorel,” Grantaire began, tearing his eyes away from the deep blue of Enjolras’ to glance at the taller man near him. “You’ve got the speakers. I dunno, put something on that’s in, like, e-flat minor. Slow, but with a beat.” 

“English,” 

“That ‘god is a woman’ song. Ariana Grande,” 

“Don’t pretend you couldn’t have just said that,” Bahorel grinned, all too sharklike momentarily as he too followed instructions and music began to filter loudly through his bluetooth speakers. 

Grantaire ignored him. He ignored all of them as he stood a few feet in front of Courfeyrac, letting his chest rise and fall, willing it to slow as his eyes fluttered shut. He knew this song. He knew this kind of dance, even if he’d never had an active participant before. 

_ You, you love it how I move you _

He put his body to work, moving it in motion with the slow rhythm her voice set. This was an easy start, a warm up. 

_ You love it how I touch you _

_ My one, when all is said and done _

He brought his hand up, running it up over the shirt under his hoodie, before using that motion to pull said hoodie over his head and completely off. 

There was a murmur amongst the small crowd of his friends, and he pushed them to the back of his mind.

_ You'll believe God is a woman _

His eyes snapped open, catching Courf’s gaze with purpose. 

_ And I, I feel it after midnight _

_ A feelin' that you can't fight _

_ My one, it lingers when we're done _

Each time one of his limbs locked into place, into perfect syncopation, he felt seemingly a thousand eyes on him the whole time. It made his skin prickle, but the sensation wasn’t completely unpleasant. 

_ You'll believe God is a woman _

He’d lowered himself to the floor slowly, rolling his hips downwards until he met the floor. 

Then, he crawled. He moved across the space with ease, gliding on his knees in time to each note until he could press his hands to Courf’s thighs. 

_ I don't wanna waste no time, yeah _

_ You ain't got a one-track mind, yeah _

He used them to lift himself up, torso curving up against him as he then placed a hand either side of him on the arms of the chair. 

Now, with their faces inches apart, he could see every mark, scar and freckle Courfeyrac had; he could see the way he’d managed to wipe that trademark grin off his face, replaced by an enraptured expression that looked way too good on him. 

_ Have it any way you like, yeah _

_ And I can tell that you know I know how I want it _

Grantaire somehow ended up moving in time to the beat, hands threading into Courf’s hair to grip, not long enough to see his reaction by the time he’d pulled back, but the other’s lips had parted, ever so slightly. 

_ Ain't nobody else can relate _

_ Boy, I like that you ain't afraid _

But when R looked over his shoulder, he caught Enjolras’ gaze once more, so intense, some kind of hidden thing lying in wait in his eyes. 

It sent a strange jolt through him that made him very nearly lose his nerves, before his resolve doubled down, and when his hands lowered to either side of Courf’s thighs, he caught him completely by surprise and lifted him up. 

_ Baby, lay me down and let's pray _

_ I'm tellin' you the way I like it, how I want it _

Courf didn’t stay that way for long, though - R had picked him up without any trouble at all, but rather than let him pull his guard back up, he managed to kick the chair aside and lower them both down as he dropped to his knees. 

He even managed to lay Courf down gently, though the playful, lingering temptation to just drop him was there. 

But R was on a mission now, and even he had to admit that he’d been caught up in the moment, unable to escape even if he’d wanted to. So he went fully into the rocking of his hips as he captured Courf there, trapped beneath R’s weight as he teasingly ghosted himself over him, lost in the motion of the music around them. 

Then, the music stopped, and Grantaire was panting. Courfeyrac was still below him, and he was undressed and R’s shirt had caught on his hips and he felt him press his hands to them. 

Oh, shit. 

Grantaire was caught far past the stage of a deer in headlights; he’d been hit by the car long ago, completely missing the flash of yellow before it crashed into him. 

So much so, he completely missed the way Courf was breathing hard too. He missed the way Enjolras looked away from what had previously been an unblinking stare. Even Bahorel’s cheering and the comments of his friends fell away to the rush in his ears. 

As a different song filtered on, R looked down and managed to meet Courf’s gaze. ‘I’m sorry’ rested on his tongue, before Courfeyrac lifted his hand and pressed his thumb to the corner of R’s mouth. 

Grantaire’s brow furrowed - he went to say something again, or at least get off of him, but Courfeyrac’s grin was back in full force, and his face was flushed. He pushed his thumb into R’s mouth, against his teeth for a moment, before sliding over his tongue. 

“What now, R?” Courfeyrac asked, both teasingly and with intent. If R was too chickenshit to continue, he could dip out now. That’s what this was.

“I- mm,” He said, unhelpfully, humming as his lips closed around Courfeyrac’s fingers, sucking lightly. He felt him shiver against him, only just realising now they were both on the floor and Courf’s legs were hooked around his waist. 

Finally, when the other slowly dragged his fingers out of his mouth, R decided that he could take a fucking hint when got them. 

He gripped Courf’s hips, pulling him flush against him, before lowering himself slowly down the Irishman's body, leaving small bites in his wake. With each scrape of his teeth, he felt Courfeyrac react. He let out small breaths, encouraging and all too warm noises that made Grantaire’s dick twitch against the confines of his jeans. 

“Oh, so you’re gonna try to reclaim your title back? There’s a pretty high bar, buddy,” Courfeyrac began as Grantaire’s mouth found its way to his thighs, gripping them with his hands and pushing them up. “And I have a shit ton in the way of references,” 

“I thought you were supposed to be the mood-setter here,” R threw him a pained look from between his legs. “Don’t make my dick soft now, dude,” 

“It’s nice to know that I-  _ ahhh _ …” Courfeyrac trailed off as Grantaire unceremoniously had lowered himself to push his tongue into him. A small sense of triumph rose up within him, spurred him on further as Courf suddenly began to squirm. 

He wasted no time teasing - slow and steady wasn’t really his forte, and he could see (and feel) how wound up his friend was already in the tenseness of his body. 

So he picked up this dance again too.

Grantaire closed his eyes and let the music wash over him, finding a good tempo to push his tongue in and out of the other, circling him, before changing rhythm to keep him on his toes. Courf’s thighs quivered against his hands as he kept them pushed up, keeping his hips slightly lifted from the ground. 

“ _ Shit -  _ Straight...to it, huh, R?” He heard Courf say, and he resisted the eyeroll and growing need to retort to smirk into his actions. Now he had the perfect leverage to make the other shut up. 

He let one of his legs lower to his shoulder as he released the grip on it to free up his hand, which he then used to make a fist around Courfeyrac’s cock. He didn’t move it, and immediately, he felt Courfeyrac start to protest that fact. 

“Hey, c’mon-,” He started, and Grantaire noted the way his accent thickened when he was like this. R pulled back, surprised at how pleased he was with the way Courf whined at the lack of contact. 

“What do you want?” Grantaire’s own voice was thick, heavy. 

“What was that?” Courf asked, but the beginnings of a wanting smirk was on his lips. 

Of course R had noticed Courf’s weird little kink; the way he craved his partners’ enthusiastic consent and loved the way they fell over themselves to tell him what they wanted him to do to them. 

Oh, how the turn tables, or whatever. 

“What do you want me to do? You’re the one protesting, so tell me what you want.” R huffed again, unable to help the way he laughed along with him. But there was a low, dangerous edge to the sound that left his throat, and R didn’t give himself time to self-reflect. He’d asked a question, and expected an answer. 

“Move your hand, at least,” Courfeyrac exhaled, but the thrill of the game was all too apparent in his expression. 

“Please,” 

“Bitch,” 

“I don’t think that constitutes ‘please’ in any language,” R grunted, shaking his head as another small, breathless laugh left him. “Alright, be a brat, but I’m not gonna-,” 

“Please, R,” Courfeyrac said, deliberately, oh so deliberately drawing out each word. “ _ Please  _ fuck me with your tongue,” 

Grantaire exhaled, slowly. 

“I can do that,” He nodded, about to lower his head. 

“And move your hand, while you’re there!” Courf chirped up, meeting R’s gaze with his own all too mischievous one. He patted Grantaire’s head. “Atta boy,” 

“Fuck off.” 

There was some small charity in R though, as he did just that, moving his hand in movements that tightened and loosened, squeezing Courf’s dick, sliding with his precum. His tongue returned to its previous administrations at Courf’s entrance, pushing into him without hesitation. 

He was quickly rewarded and took note of how responsive Courfeyrac was to certain things he did, places where he was sensitive. He chased those points with both his hand and his mouth, not at all gentle.

“Ah-hhmm...f-fuck, we’re not going slow, huh?” He felt Courfeyrac squeeze his legs around his head, and soon his hands joined them to grip his hair, offering constant encouragement. 

Grantaire responded silently by tongue fucking him like his life depended on it, aware that there was only one route to shutting the other up, and fuck, he was going to  _ really  _ shut him up, if he could. 

Within minutes, Courf was rocking his hips against him, bucking into his hand and setting an irregular rhythm that R followed. Eventually, he found a pace with his tongue, curling into him to make Courfeyrac’s back arch. 

Every single spasm he felt, the quickening pants Courf let out, only served to make him increase his efforts to bring him over that edge. 

Someone made a comment. Maybe it was Joly - it could have been Ferre. The sounds of their voices were muffled by Courf’s trembling legs, which was all R could focus on as his hand pumped in time. 

“ _ Fuck,  _ Grantaire, ah!” Courf’s voice was pitching higher, the usual lilt in it shaking with the effort it took for him to stay put together. So, he was definitely getting close. “I’m-...mm-...!” 

R pulled back, only enough to rest his head against Courf’s inner thigh, panting himself now, and before Courf could come up with some bullshit about R not doing enough, he slid his finger into him. 

Matching the movement of his hand and all too captured by the way his friend gasped and keened, shifting his hips to find more, he curled his finger against him, adding another, watching Courfeyrac come apart as he did. 

Hot. That was what his one singular braincell said in that moment. 

It didn’t occupy his time for much longer, as he started to feel Courfeyrac push against his motions wildly, tensing around him. So he bit his thigh, sucking at the flesh there, and let his hands meet each rock of his hips until the hands in his hair began to shake, clenching hard. 

When R lifted his head from paler flesh than his own, all he’d needed to do to hit the final nail in the coffin was to take Courf in his mouth and, humming around him, slide down his length. 

Almost immediately, R felt the other seize up, letting out a low cry as he twitched against his tongue. 

“Almost... _ a-almost… _ ” He whined, between his teeth, gasping for breath. 

At that point, there was absolutely no going back anyway, so R went for it. His fingers curled into him, over and over and his head bobbed down, no longer giving any kind of shit as he took him against the inside of his cheek, letting Courf roll his hips into his mouth.

Whatever the other had said to warn him had been completely lost to the white noise in his ears, but really, he should have felt the warning signs before Courf reached his climax. 

He let him ride out the waves of his orgasm with no problem, and when he pulled back, the evidence of Courfeyrac’s finish remained on his tongue, which he stuck out at him, before swallowing thickly. 

Then, without thinking too much about it, he pulled himself up to hover over Courf, looking down at him with a wild look in his eyes. 

“So,” He grinned, licking his lips. “I think I deserve a new title, right?”

“You, mm...definitely eat ass like you have something to prove, big guy,” Courf responded, a breathless laugh following soon afterwards, patting R on the shoulder. He continued to lay there, before R watched him tilt his head upwards to gesture at the few amis still there. “You hear that, Enj? When you’re done staring, maybe you could try it out for yourself,” 

Enjolras was staring?

Oh. 

Oh no. 

R had looked up, caught in the brilliant light and treacherous blue waters of their leader’s eyes, wearing an expression Grantaire had never seen before, and therefore refused to try and place. 

He suddenly felt exposed, pulling away from Courf to stand, doing a theatrical bow towards his friends as Bahorel whooped and Jehan clapped, bowing his head low to avoid the fact that Enjolras was still looking at him. 

“I’m getting another drink,” Before Courf could say anything else - before he could mention the tightness of R’s jeans or pull him towards Enj’s orbit - Grantaire gestured out flippantly and turned on his heel, moving to go through the thrum of people to disappear into the kitchen. 

Once shielded from that celestial gaze, he shivered, holding a glass under the stream of water from the sink as he let his thoughts pool against him at the forefront of his mind. 

G-d, he was so fucked. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you read this and you liked it, let us know, because we wrote 45 pages worth of porn and are probably going to keep updated it scene by scene, chapter by chapter and it's gonna get straight into it pretty fast, so, GET SOME WELLIES ON AND JUMP INTO THE DEEP END WITH US LMFAO 
> 
> Shoutout to my partner in crime, love and writing who wrote a few of these scenes! She's an actual blessing! 
> 
> I might add actual content warnings (though this isn't going to get too heavy like that, just your usual warnings) as I post chapters, and chapters may include the main ship of the scene so that if you guys have anything you wanna skip or read specifically, you can do that! 
> 
> seriously though, this is just porn with barely put together plot and it's just for shits and gigs, we're just having fun out here. Hope you are too! 
> 
> If you are one of the people who read my terrible Grantaire sadfics, this porn is for you! SORRY! love y'all!


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